


Landing Off Course

by Jupiterra



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alaska, Angst with a Happy Ending, Complete, M/M, MerMay, Mermaids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:33:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24393598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jupiterra/pseuds/Jupiterra
Summary: Alfred is a charter pilot in Alaska, caught in a snow storm. He crashes in the ocean, doomed to drown. An unusual creature comes to his rescue.This is for MerMay, but I was VERY LATE starting it.
Relationships: America/Russia (Hetalia)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 110





	1. Chapter 1

Alaska was a world apart. It was jagged peaks, screaming cold, untouched bounty, and raw sea. Alaska was deadly beautity that stole Alfred Jones's heart. It was a recent love affair, pulling him from Washington and his city born malaise.

It was a love affair that might yet kill him. Landing in Fairbanks with nothing but dreams and a pilot license, Alfred was put to work. Primarily delivering mail by air, the twenty two year old had flown more miles than drove. There was times he slept in his beloved plane. She was his meal ticket, fully paid after a year of endless voyage.

Freedom was her name, a pre-owned Cessna-207. The aircraft could carry up to five passengers with an approximate payload of 1050 pounds, total passengers and gear. The C-207 was a staple of charters and mail delivery for desolate communities.

Her broad wings were painted like the American flag, a flying declaration of Alfred's love for his country. Still, there was days it was hard to believe he was in America at all. Today had started out so serene, a white world blanketting Alfred's private cabin. Departing from his home in Point Mackenzie, Alfred was always braced to battle the weather.

Two days later, he was strung off seven hours sleep. He was hours late for delivering mail to the island of Adak. It was a quiet wasteland of an island numbering one or two hundred people, littered with abandoned military structures from the cold war. Why anyone lived there, Alfred had no idea.

Despite being paid a tidy sum to deliver mail and medical supplies, he wanted to turn back. Three hours from his destination, the sky turned scornful. A blinding snow cloud was hedged with all Alfred's skill, yet the devilish flakes scattered on his windows. He could barely see as he struggled to flee the deadly weather system.

The entire plane rattled violently from turbulence, ripping through partial snow cover. “Come on Freedom! You can make it baby!” Alfred's words were as much a prayer as an order. Freezing in the cockpit, his heart pounded. This couldn't be it. He was going to land in Adak fine. He was going to grab a drink and laugh this off tonight.

The plane shook again, the engine choking up. There was too much snow, too much wind. Alfred couldn't even see the churning ocean below anymore.

“ **NO! FREEDOM! BABY, YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME! I JUST GOT YOU PAINTED!** ”

The altimeter flickered and began to decrease. The engine choked and silenced, only howling wind outside. Steering became immeasurably difficult, forcing Alfred to tug back with all his might. All the while he frantically tried to restart the engine.

“ **COME ON YOU BITCH! WORK!** ”

The half frozen plane glided heavily, dipping below cloud level dangerously. Alfred released gas in a panic, desperate to lighten his weight. He could vaguely see Adak in the distance, a white and brown island blurred by weather. He needed to glide a little farther, a bit more...

The hungry ocean roiled below, dark and looming.

“ **BABY JESUS PLEASE, I'M ONLY ASKING FOR THIS ONE TIME THING!** ”

The plane glided to the ocean, pathetically far from it's target. Metal screeched as it was shredded by watery g-forces. With two bounces and a massive splash, the plane landed. The wings were ripped off in the process along with the landing gear. Alfred's very skeleton rattled from slamming into his seat belt so hard. By god, he survived!

Prying bloodless grip off the plane interface, he dared tremble and breathe. He was in shock from whiplash, but there was no time to ponder the damage. Freezing black water was trickling into the cabin. He had perhaps minutes.

Alfred had to swim for Adak. He was going to die if he didn't.

Determined, Alfred unbuckled his seat belt and looked behind him. Everything was on the floor from rough landing, absolutely soaked. No flares for him. His entire body throbbed with movement but it didn't matter.

_No time like the present._

The cracked plane door was easy to dislodge, on the verge of breaking off. Water, black and freezing gushed in. It struck like a punch, one Alfred had to take. Gasping, he shivered and fought the rush of ocean. Paddling through spray, his eyes stung from salty scorn. Dark grey skies held no comfort.

Swells of water forty feet high bobbed Alfred like a Christmas ornament. He was no matched for mother nature, and she was a cruel parent. He struggled to stay afloat, let alone push forward. There was hope yet, Adak's unforgiving landscape in the distance. Skin prickled as the ocean sapped his strength. Alfred had to keep swimming.

He was going to make it.

Some swells were over sixty feet tall, crashing with the sound of dim thunder. The plane was gone, sucked under and consumed. Alfred refused to give up. He was going to make it. By baby Jesus and NASCAR, he was going to swim to that goddamn island!

This hope, flickering in the oceans of death, finally snuffed. It was a wave eighty feet tall. It roared like a primordial predator as it loomed, crashing and spitting foam forth. Alfred was already exhausted as it engulfed him.

He accepted his fate, closing his eyes. Something wrapped around his ankle, tugging him down into darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

Alfred woke to light blue peace, senses flared open. It was an intense sensation waking up far underwater. He could see with greater range and detail than ever before. He could taste and hear everything, like an exposed infant.

A dim realization hit the likely concussed pilot. He did smash pretty hard into the ocean. He was sitting at the bottom of a rocky ledge in the Bering sea, breathing underwater. He intuitively clawed at wet clothes, feeling like he was suffocating.

_What the fuck was going on?_

The sea floor had nothing to say on this matter. White shirt shredded, Alfred felt more comfortable already, wriggling free of his trashed leather jacket. It was like a force of nature shredded the sturdy pilot coat. How curious to sea genuine leather fetter like thin streamers.

None of this really mattered because he was underwater in the goddamn Bering Sea. Kicking off a few inches of protective silt and rocks, he shed ripped outer layers. If Alfred wasn't certain he was insane right now, he might wonder how a protective pile of dirt and rocks was placed on top of him.

Weak currents tugged the tattered clothes away, but the freezing water were less sharp than expected. Alfred didn't know people could acclimatize to such cold water. It only made this all less real. Alfred was probably brain dead on a rocky frozen beach somewhere.

Either way, he needed to get help. Walking underwater on the bottom was ungainly and slow, but he didn't know any better. Dad never taught him to swim well. Ugh. This form of movement was horrible. Proper swimming had to be faster.

It took a few minutes of sloppy dog paddling and flailing. Alfred was damn graceful at swimming if he relaxed and let it happen. Kicking off his heavy boots, he dared stretch and giggle. In shady salty sea, it was a cute clip of noise. Swimming was _incredibly_ fun when not in chlorinated water.

Senses dialed to the limit, he felt high as he scanned the partial darkness. He had to find shore and get help. Help from what? Drowning? This clearly hallucination induced moment? It was difficult to think about almost dying. Alfred needed to find his bearings either way, because the Bering Sea was massive.

Looking up, the violent over world churned from storm. Alfred glumly watched his new ceiling twist and undulate. It was a fool's task to fight sixty foot waves at sea. They already pushed him under before.

He had to use his sparse survival skills, and surveyed the land around him. The land was clearly sloping upwards towards somewhere, dominated by dark kelp and seaweed. Long blue eels flitted along the flora in the distance. A school of shimmering tuna was far in the distance, like glimmering change on a river bottom.

Alfred recalled a shitty conversation with a lonely fisherman months back. Tuna were common everywhere, voracious and huge. They still had plenty of predators, and preferred shallow seas near islands. It was a common tactic to avoid the biggest sharks and Orca whales.

The silver cloud of fish indicated a probable island. The slope of this fantasy landscape confirmed it. With time on his side, Alfred began his long journey.


	3. Chapter 3

Matthew was relieved when his brother was found on Ratt island, holed up in an abandoned building. He had started a massive fire, attracting a passing boat. This discovery was shocking. After missing two weeks at sea, the forgone conclusion was that he drowned. After all, his cessna was nothing but floating scraps of garbage near Adak. How he ended up miles away on the wrong island was a mystery.

After a quick rescue from another passing Cessna, Alfred was ordered to recover at home by the postal service. In the extremes of Alaska, package deliverers didn't last long. He was clearly in shock, not talking to anyone about the experience.

With the talkative male mute, Matthew came to the rescue. He arrived in Port Mackenzie by dirt bike, most roads eroded from seasonal flooding. Taking the river was more common than driving a car in these parts. The quaint wood cabin was unchanged, surrounded by walls of dense forest.

Bearing gifts of Sushi and dried goods from Anchorage, Matthew leaned his dirt bike against a tree. He passed Alfred's own star spangled dirt bike, parked against the cabin. Knocking on the door promptly, he yelled out greetings.

“Hey, I came with some treats!”

Matthew's words were magic, summoning a rather ragged brother. Although Alfred was adopted, they were both honey blondes with faint freckles. The only real difference was Matthew was paler and able to grow a real beard. Alfred's two week old patchy face was still unshaven and silly looking.

A baby blue eye peeked out as the door opened a crack. The miraculously recovered sibling sounded _horrible_. “Treats?”

“Rainbow Trout Sushi and Ramen...” Matthew left the prized goods out of snatching range, teasing. Alfred never said no to sushi. It was his favourite food since forever, verging on uncomfortably passionate.

Alfred granted entry instantly, leaving the door open. He vanished within to open several curtains. Sunlight flooded a rustic den space as Matthew followed. Rifles were displayed on the wall, functional as they were decorative. A Kodiak bear skin was draped on a couch, opposite a wall of family photos in wooden frames.

A normally perky American looked downright terrible. His hair was limp, face scruffy in patches. His eyes were tired in dark sockets. It was all likely justified, given that Alfred survived two weeks alone at sea.

Alfred was downright humble in his housecoat and slippers. It was distressing to witness. “Sorry about... the everything. I haven't cleaned in like a month.”

Matthew closed the door to keep clouds of mosquitoes out, then seated himself. Alfred snatched away the plastic grocery bag of goods, voracious for his gross food. He looked hungry enough to snap. Matthew patiently watched sashimi and nori wrapped disgust vanish. With hungry anger at bay, conversation could take place.

“Alfred, you were... you survived two weeks at sea. You must have something to say.”

Alfred flinched at so blunt a statement, looking up with a snap of movement. He was in shock, he had to be for such pale expression. “You... you wouldn't believe what I did to survive.”

Matthew patted the couch spot next to him in invitation. “I'm here for you.” Alfred took up the offer, the attention sponge that he was.

“I can't tell you, Mattie. It was... you would never believe what I did. I was... I was supposed to drown and I didn't. I just didn't.”

The older brother clucked his tongue and gave a small head shake. “Survivors guilt. It's okay that you lived. I'm happy you lived. Me and Mom were so scared for you, but you're here now. If Dad was alive he would have been out there looking with the coast guards too.”

Alfred whined in distress, slumping as he was given back pats. “It's not that! It's... I'll show you. I'll show you something, and you have to swear to baby Jesus and maple syrup not to tell a living soul anything.”

Matthew rolled his eyes, subtly sarcastic. “Okay. Show me this thing.” Alfred was known to be dramatic. This was probably a model kit for another NASCAR miniature. After Alfred put on real clothes, they zipped through partially tamed wilderness via dirt bikes. They ended up on a rocky beach with gorgeous weather. The wind was sharp on the skin, otherwise there was little to complain about.

“Okay? What is this?” Matthew finally spoke up, fed up with all the mystery. Alfred peeled off his shirt, a rare event in public. His body was striped with bizarre scars, layered like lines over his rib cage. No doctor had ever pinned down the condition, though it was noted the area was sensitive and tender.

“Alfred, people will see your...” Matthew was cut off was a mean glare, retreating slightly. It was all the colder for it wasn't framed by smart glasses. Down to cargo shorts, Alfred was clearly insane as he bared almost all in early Alaska summer. The water was still freezing in spots after all.

“I know you're going to judge me and nag... but just. Get in the water with me. You have to see it for yourself.” Alfred was nothing if honest. Matthew sighed and gingerly undressed to swim trunks. He had already come from a friend's hot tub, so lucked out.

Now half blind and chilly, Matthew crossed his arms as they stood in ankle deep water. The cold of it stabbed his skin. He really needed his glasses to see. They both did. “Okay. My toes are cold.”

“Come on!” Alfred dragged them both deeper, eliciting less than manly shrieks from Matthew.

“Ugh this is so darn cold!” 

“Stop being a baby, Mattie! It's practically room temperature!”

“I'll call mom!”

“No! Don't!”

This childish fight culminated in both idiots stumbling into neck deep water. Alfred turned serious, determined to complete whatever this silly beach mission was. He spoke with determination. “Look. You're going to see something weird and you have to promise me you won't freak out.”

Matthew still didn't see what the big deal was, shrugging. Alfred sank underwater, and the other brother took a deep breath before sinking with him. It was really hard to stay down. The wheaten blonde had never been a sinker like Alfred. Dad's partially irrational fears of Alfred drowning had not been founded on nothing. Alfred was kept from deep water for years because he fell like a stone.

In all the motion, Matthew observed a change in his adoptive sibling. Alfred was very calm underwater, almost sitting on the beach floor. His sea blue eyes were bright, gems in watery surroundings. Most bizarre of all, Alfred seemed to be... breathing. His chest moved lightly, his ribcage markings flaring sometimes like... no. This was insane.

Matthew splashed out of the water in panic. He scampered up wet rocks, looking back helplessly. Alfred took several minutes to emerge from icy waters. When he did rise from wet depth, his torso's pseudo gills flared. Alfred gasped a little until they closed, sealing once more as symmetrical scars. He seemed temporarily pained, blindly adjusting as he reached for his glasses. Matthew dried his own spectacles on a towel, speechless.

Finally, Matthew found the word. “Gills.”

Alfred nodded grimly. “I walked to Ratt island, Mattie.”

“We need to talk to Mom.”

Alfred shook his head frantically. “No! You promised you wouldn't freak out!”

“ **GILLS, ALFRED!** ”

“Yeah! I know! Gills! I can't just say that I... This is weird and I don't know what to do.” Alfred twiddled his thumbs and slouched, wearing his own beach towel over broad shoulders. He looked to his closest family member with sincerity. “Give me a few days to process everything. Then we can talk to Mom.”

Matthew frowned, forever anxious. “I'm going to hold you to that.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There Russia is!

It was the noise that first woke up instinct. Violet eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the darkness of sea bottom. It was the first time in forever he had heard the call of his own kind. Rarer still, it was a call of distress! The pale male of sorts wriggled and stretched from his muddy hibernation, emerging from his rocky lair. Gills flared for fresh breath as he activated rested muscles.

The merman was milky white like moonlight, both a hindrance and camouflage from shark attacks. Wrapping kelp and flora around his form carefully, He finished his waking ritual.

Once more a sharp keen tickled the Merman's senses. Ivan looked up watching debris sink down from afar. The water current had obviously scattered the remnants of something nearby. The world ceiling ripped and surged from storm, vaguely audible. From over 50 feet away, Ivan swam curiously. He was not fast like the Marlin, or bulky like a boat hull. He was a rather moderate merman, built for ambush attacks.

Churning a bubble or two from anxious huffs, the merman left his safe kelp forests. He swam diligently towards a sinking object. This was the last general location of the distress call. On the basal level, he had the urge to answer it. The silver haired male trilled forth, now swimming beneath a sinking person. Whether this was an over world human or a merman was to be determined.

After a second trill, the body twitched slightly. It was not dying like humans, but clearly struggling in semi-unconscious state. Not under threat, Ivan dared a second test. He gingerly grabbed a twitching hand, giving it a soft lick. It was... nothing. This fine flesh tingled of faintly sweet nothing, confirming the very best of news.

The merman was not alone! Mermen and mermaids were vicious omnivores. The only things off the menu was rubbery plants, humans, and their own kind. Mermen tasted neutral to sweet with their own kind. For anything to be sweet in the salty seas was a miracle.

The paler merman chirped softly in excitement, grabbing his potential playmate by the ankle. Dragging the creature down to a safer kelp patch, the merman paused. The other one had stilled almost completely, smaller and weaker in frame. It was snared in thick wet coverings, making the larger male panic.

His new friend was wrapped in potential garbage from the overworld! This offensive probable plastic was shredded with sharpened nails. It was torn and bitten. Only the purest cruelty was having the first company in years dying.

Nearly naked as nature intended, this newcomer wasn't breathing. The merman panicked, recalling ancient memory. His own kind were sensitive around the gills, ticklish beyond measure. With a deviant grin, the much bulkier Merman traced along faint markings.

Gosh, this one was so... thin compared to him. Underfed perhaps? Not exposed enough to the great mother seas? There was no excuse for these gills being so underdeveloped. Stories had been acted out, terrible nightmares, by mother mermaids for generations. Little ones being snatched away from coves when they were too young to survive great water depths.

The merman shuddered at the frightening reality before him. A potentially deprived child of mother sea. This one still wasn't breathing right, gills half open. Drastic action was needed. This poor child, a late adolescent by Mer standards, was groomed with care. It was something mothers would do to stimulate proper breathing in infants, to sooth them.

With a few soothing licks and a coo of noise, it was entirely effective. A new friend was not suffocating! They were laid with care in the heart of the kelp forest, dirt placed with care as a bed on top. Only rib gills and vulnerable eyes were left exposed. It was the only safe way to sleep in the dangerous waters of home.

The merman's strained social graces had proven him right. The efforts were already working. This newcomer was stirring slightly, recovering fast in his native element. Excited, the larger male hid along the kelp, his plant wear making him all but invisible.

It was all but moments, lunar purple eyes observing from afar. The teen merman woke quickly, shaking off his earthen covers. His swimming was comically bad. His everything was graceless as he moved about, endearingly cute.

How long had he keep kept away? This one would certainly die within the day, so undeveloped. It was best to follow this male in his darker tropical skin. At least he was more mud coloured, which was _something_ to save him.

This new interesting subject was followed for days. Wolf eels and small fish were mortally wounded then scared in the direction of this inexperienced Merman. It was common tactic with mothers training their children to hunt. This was remembered fondly, violet eyes watching from afar.

Panic came only five days into this new stalking joy. The violet eyed merman took a nap in some weeds, perhaps longer than expected. When he woke, his new obsession was long gone. The younger male had apparently discovered swimming with the current, ripped along to points unknown.

Loss.

_Immeasurable loss._

He had lost the first of his kind seen for almost two hundred moons. The loneliness was tolerable before, he was so certain his mother and sister were caught and killed in that fishing net. He had barely entered adulthood when they were hauled out of the true world into the overlands. Mourning the loss of a new social world, Ivan had to return to his territory. Sharks, squids, and wolf eels would gladly steal his waters in a month. It was prime ambush land he carved out for himself years ago.

This was not the first or last time the Bering sea would echo the low wails of a companionship starved merman.


	5. Chapter 5

Alfred was restless as he paced his cabin. He had problems, problems by the dozen. He lost his plane, his only means of employment. He was going to have the power shut off. He was absolutely starving, despite having a pantry with captain crunch in it. He tried eating some of it twice, only to vomit. Beyond all of this, there was a bigger problem.

_Alfred missed the sea._

The two weeks alone at sea had been a slurry of feelings. Confusion, shock, terror, they were cold like the sea. Much like sea water, you got used to the temperature. After a day of freaking out, there was curiosity. He explored the sparse reefs, the kelp forests, and the silted plains. He stumbled upon joyful discoveries. 

He discovered he was really great at swimming.

He discovered he could acclimate to freezing waters with time.

He discovered that raw fish was unrivalled happiness.

People were not supposed to eat raw meat. This was a fact that most people knew, children were taught this from the start. It was a great behaviour for avoiding disease in regular people. Regular people didn't have webbed feet. Regular people couldn't breathe underwater. Regular people didn't have fucking claws if they left their nails untrimmed for a month.

The call with Mom had gone as disastrously as Alfred expected. Marianne was a world away in France, drinking in every false detail. Of course he lied about how he survived the plane crash. Truth was stranger than fiction, and she would drink up this mermaid business. She would swill it in her social circle like ruby red wine, get her fill. No matter what, Alfred would end up in a mental hospital.

A lie was truly a kindness. Now if only Alfred believed himself.

He was happy at sea, almost forgetting to come back. It wasn't by intention however. His life wasn't a terrible one. He had a plane and he could get another one eventually. His cabin was nice, ten minutes from the wide mouth of Port Mackenzie. It was all just a little hollow. He was always looking for something to fill himself.

With a shudder, he pulled on his leather aviator jacket and departed. He couldn't stand it anymore. This was just a quick swim, an hour tops. He needed to get this need out of his system, then he was getting his life back in order.

A zippy dirt bike ride later, he was past the abandoned construction sites and rubble. Yet another failed port project that was destroyed by Alaskan winter and tides. Paying the surroundings no mind, Alfred arrived at his new favourite beach. He stripped to his underwear, the warm spring air less nippy than usual.

The drop off into deep blue seemed bottomless. Construction had sheared it straight down to rock, artificial canal wall holding erosion at bay. After slipping into the water silently, He took one last glance at the above world of stinging air and rugged wilderness. It was easier than expected to depart this harsh universe.

Alfred didn't realize he was headed out to sea until he passed several underwater landmarks. The end of artificial construction zones, several industrial anchors... until the mother of all boat hulls loomed in the distance. Alfred surfaced a minute, looking back to shore. He could barely make out a town on distant rocky land.

Okay, so maybe he really overshot where he was going. How fast was he swimming?

Ducking back under, Alfred left the shipping lane for safer areas. A thick patch of seaweed looked rather inviting, roughly sixty feet down. Kelp, seaweed, and corals all battled here for nutrients swept in by the tide. All but one fool hardy crab fled at Alfred's presence. Sea life openly treated Alfred like he was a voracious shark.

It was probably for good reason. Alfred snatched the crab from behind, ripping it apart. He crushed that brown exoskeleton with ease, his sharpening nails starting to take purchase. Give two more weeks, they would be tough enough to shred leather.

Three crabs into a great day, Alfred paused his remorseless ambush tactics. There was a low wail, an unearthly sound that carried on the sea currents. It pulled him, playing his heart like harp strings. There was only one feeling that could be felt from hearing this.

_Lonely pain._

Alfred's breath hitched, making a few bubbles rise to the surface. He knew from the underwater sky that time had passed. The silvered rippling ceiling was beginning to darken. He and to go home. He promised Matthew he would stay home and get himself sorted out. A primitive thought came to mind.

_I am home._

It was an instinctual decision. Alfred looked only once to the land he left. Hearing that sorrowful call sound again, the choice was obvious. He swam further out to sea, leaving only a swirling trail of silt.


	6. Chapter 6

Matthew didn't like lying. In this case, he couldn't tell the truth. Mom would never buy that Alfred was a Merman that decided to live at sea. Both brothers, even separated by the elements, could agree on that much. Thus the most ridiculous lie of all time was constructed.

Alfred broke from work stress and joined a hippy to live off the land. It was the most out of character behaviour imaginable. Mom bought the story completely. Everything was fine, until it wasn't. Four months into Alfred abandoning his old life, Mom wanted pictures.

_Of course she wanted pictures._

This lead to today's awkward social encounter. The sea was calm today, a blessing for Matthew's speedboat. He arrived at the agreed upon location, shutting off the engine. It wouldn't be that long of a wait, just like last time. Matthew was nervous as he sat, twiddling his thumbs.

Alfred's supposed “roommate”, another merman, was downright terrifying. It was a residual slimy hulk of pale muscle and cunning. The alien male had time sharpened claws, and a sharper violet glare. Despite going native, Alfred could mostly pass as a standard hippy. This “Ivan” could not, his very hands partially webbed.

With a splash, clawed gripped appeared on either side of the boat. The palest pair of hands slightly ripped seat liner as a kelp draped monster emerged from dark water. “Ivan” was predatory eyes as his muscular form hauled onto the boat.

Ivan hissed at Matthew in warning, shushed by Alfred. Coughing up an inordinate amount of water, It took Alfred a solid minute get his people words back.

“Sorry, big guy here is a jealous bitch.” Alfred joked. This was affirmed by Ivan essentially shielding Alfred from his own sibling. Matthew had no intention of hugging Alfred anyway. He made that mistake on their second meeting, odd aquatic slime ruining his shirt. Matthew could only guess it was a natural insulator. The sea was incredibly cold.

“It's... fine. Are we all ready to do this?” Matthew put his hands up in submission as he spoke.

Ivan finally calmed, leaning back and putting an arm around Alfred. In the process, his full presence was exposed. The stubborn merman didn't understand the concept of clothing, unwilling to try. Wearing shells on strings and sea plants hardly constituted as covering.

Glancing away from Ivan's generous physique, Matthew felt slightly ill. Being built like a tank engine was truly not his type. A phone was pulled out, quickly ready to dial. Matthew took a deep breath before speaking.

“Remember the story?”

Alfred rolled his eyes. “I met the love of my life at a nudist colony after getting work burnout.”

Assured with a low growl from Ivan, Matthew called mom. The call sounded watery from bad reception, but this was to be expected. They were literally in the the middle of the sea. After three long rings, Mom's much loved voice came through. At least Matthew loved her very much, being her favourite.

“Mama, kisses!” Matthew greeted in french. Alfred rolled his eyes, picking at his seashell necklace.

“My baby boy! Are you well?” Her voice was welcoming as ever.

Ivan squinted at the phone in confusion, hearing sharp. Matthew cut his usual chatter short, flipping back to English. “So, I'm visiting Alfred if you want to say hello.”

Mom hesitated. She took Alfred's fake excuse just as badly as she would have the real story. “Yeah... If he's, you know, _okay_.”

“Yeah, I'll go speaker mode.” Matthew pressed a button, holding the device near Alfred. He was cautious not to get too close to Ivan's face. The almost inhuman male bit the phone last time out of instinct. The force was enough to crack the phone's screen.

“Hi darling!” Mom cheered, slightly too loud.

Ivan winced and growled lowly as Alfred greeted the device. “Hey Mom.”

“Are you... still at the nudist camp?”

Conversation was predictable. Alfred looked at his nails in disinterest as he chatted. “Yes Mom.”

“Do you realize the risk of being a nudist in Alaska? You'll freeze your boy berries off in two months!”

“Mom... We'll be fine.” Another sigh of annoyance snaked out of Alfred.

Matthew backed up his brother, intent on keeping everything covered up. He didn't want his merman sibling chopped up in a laboratory. “Yeah... they have coats in the winter, eh.”

There was a long pause. She bought the lie once more. “Well, I'll mail you some sweaters anyway. You know how I feel about personal freedoms. If you change your mind, or if I said something that you want to talk about... It's okay to talk about your big boy feelings!”

“Mom, you are so embarrassing!” Alfred whined.

“I just care about you! I want –” Mom's voice cut off. Ivan had batted the device into the water while bored, just like Matthew's spoiled cat. This behaviour was encouraged further by Alfred's inhuman huffs of assumed laughter. Before all this Merman business, it was an odd sound he naturally made. After meeting Ivan, it was clearly not a human noise. There was very little about Alfred that was human at this point, the sea consuming his every thought. Even his teeth looked sharper these days.

“That was my phone!” Matthew complained, peering into dark sea water.

“Ivy! You rascal!” Alfred giggling, given a long lick by his male companion. Ivan slipped back into the endless waters. He surfaced a minute later, half a face with enigmatic violet eyes. The dead phone was thrown back into the boat with disdain, bouncing once on the soggy floor.

Ivan drenched Matthew in a splash of water before vanishing to the deeps. Matthew frowned as Alfred giggled and huffed from humour. 

“He got you good!”

Matthew stood, miserable in his sopping wet sweater vest. “Yep.”

With another wet splash, Alfred delved into water unknown. This meeting was less than five minutes long, with less productive time than usual. Maybe Matthew missed his loud sassy brother. Maybe...

No. It didn't matter. Alfred's old life died when he crashed into the sea. This was a new chapter following a rough landing. Matthew could only hope his brother was making the right choice.


End file.
